


Sixteen

by thethingthathasnoname



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Apologies, Drabble, Enjoy xoxo, Fluff, M/M, Otherwise this fic is completely harmless I promise, Rated T for copious usage of bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethingthathasnoname/pseuds/thethingthathasnoname
Summary: Harry's internal monologue leading up to the moment when he shouted 16 when singing 18.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Sixteen

**Author's Note:**

> The stupidest, fluffiest, shortest thing ever based on this singular moment: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sffxbkco0uM. I am in no way insinuating that this moment is in all literal and actual fact related to the reality that Harry met Louis when he was sixteen as everything here is a figment of my own romantic imagination. I am sure there is another very reasonable explanation...

Have you ever heard the expression

 _So in love that you want to shout it from the rooftops_ ?

Harry had. Many times. In books, in films, in conversations with love struck friends. Harry had always rolled his eyes, shrugged it off. He had never really understood it.

Until now.

Standing on stage in front of thousands of people.

Heart racing.

Eyes blown wide with elation.

Looking at the one person in his life who made him smile so hard his face hurt. Who made him laugh ‘til he couldn’t breathe. Who made him fill with warmth and excitement that burnt so bright he feared he might burst from the sheer ecstatic, nervous energy of trying to keep it all inside. For whom he would do anything. Even if that something was keeping their love a secret from the entire world.

And he finally fucking understood.

He wanted to yell. He wanted to throw his head back and holler to the universe.

 _I fucking love him. I love Louis Tomlinson. I love him so much that I could just cry. That I could fall apart from one singular fucking look that he throws my way. That I could spontaneously_ _combust into mile-high fucking flames from one singular fucking touch._

He wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

But he couldn’t.

Management would kill him.

The chaos that he would cause from just one sentence.

The heads in hands that would greet him as he walked off stage.

The never-ending lecture that would follow, the disapproving looks. 

The possibility of potentially ruining all their careers, not just his own, but the entire bands’.

But he also couldn’t keep this inside.

So he did the only thing he could do. The one thing that he and Louis had been doing ever since day one to try and keep themselves just the slightest bit sane. He raised his god-forsaken microphone that should have freed his soul and yet instead kept it chained tightly to his chest and he shouted the only word that he could. That he hoped anyone who wanted to hear, anyone who was listening carefully enough, would latch onto and understand what he was trying to say

_SIXTEEN_


End file.
